Monday, February 28, 2011
I can't remember where I bought this. It may have been on the sale shelf at Talking Leaves or off their table at the Buffalo Small Press Book Fair. Or I bought it used somewhere. I have a flickering memory of having been surprised upon encountering this book, as if I hadn't expected to find it where I did. That could mean any number of things. It could also mean nothing. Anyhow, It's a good book. You should read it. Duncan McNaughton is another one of those poets like Gerrit Lansing who is sadly under-read. I am a little short on time this morning, so I'll have to continue my discourse on friendship in my next entry.
When the morning calls in, that golden bird
when it's over, that golden metaphysical bird
when the meaning calls, I am in
There were no gold birds in the meaning
other than the golden, metaphysical birds
"Those little golden birdies, look at them"
to Lee Hickman 23 June 89